More Than Just A Saving Grace
by ProbablyAwfulWriting
Summary: Modern AU. Hiccstrid and probably done to death but humor me, I think mine is new and fresh to an old AU. Give it a read and find out for yourself. He has been nothing his entire life and she has not. He was ridiculed and ignored and she was praised. Both are missing things in their lives and need someone to understand.
1. Introducing Hiccup

**This is my first fanfic of all time! Hip Hip Hooray, I guess. It honestly probably doesn't matter to most of you if it is my first or not so long as it is well written and not too depressing. Sadly I can only promise one of these things. I know that the Hiccup/Astrid modern au, high school, hiccup being bullied and ignored, astrid popular, story has been done to death, but I can't help but do one myself. HTTYD is honestly one of my favorite subjects to read and/or write fanfiction about and this au pairing is my favorite story type**

 **Edit: This was never honestly going to be uploaded in the first place, but my sleep addled mind, in it's infinite wisdom, decided I should upload it. I am too stubborn to take it down and it has recieved moderatly well reception so far so I will continue it. I came in and editted a few things that were probably fine but I believed could be improved, mostly the "Stoick" paragraph. Enjoy.**

Mondays fucking suck.

Pessimistic as hell I know, but when your Mondays consist of bullying, disappointment, and overall uselessness on your part, you come to hate them. Not that they are much different from most other days of the week, Mondays just have that horrible stigma around them that makes them seem so much more miserable, but, before I go onto continue this rant that you could honestly care less about, or say something else to you to make me seem like the awkward introvert that I am, I should probably introduce myself, as you are probably just _dying_ to know.

My name is Henrik Horrendous Haddock the Third, not that I have heard my actual name in years. Most people, and probably you as well, know me as Hiccup The Useless, or Hiccup the Ultimate Lord of the Nerds, or, if you are feeling really nice, or just don't care enough to address me by my one of my full titles, Hiccup. The reasons for both of those long winded titles were, at one point or another, attempts to bully me, but I have honestly come to love the latter of the two. I won't deny that I am a major nerd. Hell, my idea of a good time is a good game of Magic: The Gathering (Green White master race bitches) while video game music plays in the background, or maybe an online game of League of Legends on Skype with a few guys I met online.

I happen to live in a small town in the middle of nowhere called Berk in a faraway, mystical place called Alaska. It has a population of 8,000 poor, unfortunate souls, and rarely rises above thirty-five degrees Fahrenheit. It snows, rains, and hails ninety percent of the year, is cloudy five percent, and sunny the other five, in a really, really, really good year. It's pretty depressing if I am completely honest, and this Monday just happens to be one of those sunny days, for some reason or another, symbolism is fucking beautiful is it not (you will find out why it counts as symbolism in due time. Patience young padawan).

I was born to Steven (Stoick) Haddock, mayor of Berk and ex-special forces, and Valka Haddock (here is where I would put any information I know about her…, IF I HAD ANY), yeah… she kinda disappeared a few years after I was born and no one has heard of or seen her since, and my father refuses to talk about it so yeah, sorry. Anyway I'm over it, never knew her and thus don't really care or think about it too much, but my dad wasn't so lucky. He was convinced that she was his soulmate and was destroyed when she left, so he found something to take his frustrations out on, I'll let you guess what. Give up? I'll give you a big hint… it just so happens to be me. Yay! (insert sarcastic tone) He sees me as a constant reminder of my mother, and so, being the wonderful man and father that he is, has punished, ignored, and generally been disappointed in me for years. It doesn't help that I am the literal opposite of him in every aspect of the word, thus giving us nothing to bond over. He is big, strong, and prefers fighting to thinking, and I'm the, a pacifist at heart. He was the star quarterback with a B/C average in high school, and I am a scrawny nerd with an above A average. His life goals consisted of going into the army and kicking ass, mine consist of engineering. Different in literally every aspect of the word.

My circle of friends consists of Me, Myself, and Frankie, alias Fishlegs, who is almost as much of a nerd as I am, just with slightly lower grades, more muscle mass, and is the leading fullback of the the Berk High School Dragons. He and I are both juniors and ready to head out into the world, both plan on going to the same college, and both have hopelessly futile crushes on two of the most popular girls in school. He loves a brass girl named Ruffnut (Theresa (Ha got you there, I put the nickname first)), gods only know why. I have a much more obvious crush. The object of my affections, along with most the other guys in the school, is the one and only Astrid Hofferson. I will not begin to describe why I happen to be hopelessly in love with her because I could go on for days, but to summarize, she has, hands down, the most beautiful voice I've ever heard (which is why she is the head chair in our student and church choir), the most beautiful eyes ever created (no comment), and is the only one in school whose grades come close to mine (she makes even higher marks than Fishlegs, but still not as high as me).

You may have noticed that all of my descriptions have exactly three traits each and every time. That is all thanks to my not so clinically diagnosed OCD, not technically clinically diagnosed thanks to my father. My father said, one snowy day during one of our not so uncommon arguments and/or general conversations, and I directly quote (cue the Scottish accent and deep booming voice that does not understand that volume management is a thing) "NO SON OF MINE NEEDS A SHRINK TO TELL HIM WHETHER HE IS SANE OR NOT, AND NO MATTER HOW SEEMINGLY UNLIKELY, YA ARE ME FLESH AN' BLOOD, AND I REFUSE TO PAY FOR IT." True poetry and unadulterated fatherly love and concern right? … … … Yeah … … that's what I thought as well.

My whole life, I've never been known around town as anything more than a disappointment, if I'm acknowledged at all, but today, I'll finally do something right. I'll finally stop being a burden to everyone.

 **Humorous and funny right, yeah that will only last so long. Tell me what you think and I may or may not update sometime soon, depending on my schedule and if I feel like it. I plan on making this a multi-chapter fic written from the point of view of both Hiccup and Astrid, who will introduce herself next chapter. This chapter is shorter than what I want the average length of my chapters to be because it is an introduction. Criticism is always welcome and if there are any changes you believe I should make, let me know and I'll get on it right away. Thank you so much for reading and please leave a review.**


	2. Introducing Astrid

**A/N: Howdy once again. There isn't much to say in this note. Much thanks to the two who have reviewed so far. Any questions asked in the reviews will be answered in the author's note before each chapter so feel free to ask. I will also begin a date stamp to which I published/updated each chapter. No practical reason, I just want there to be one. If you guys don't, tell me and I will stop, but I would like to try it out for now. Enough of my rambling, now introducing, my good friend, the disturbed girl with a "perfect" life, ASTRID HOFFERSON (you may now applause).**

Mondays fucking suck. They aren't necessarily the worst day of the week, typically, they are honestly the exact same as the rest of the week, but I've just always hated them. I've found myself hating

a lot of things lately, and I have good reason too, but no reason to ruin a perfectly nice day (for once) with those depressing thoughts. I have a image to keep up any way. Some people would call me "shallow" for those particular thought *coughHeatherThatHypocriticalBitchcough*. Ugh that was a weird one wasn't it, anyway I should probably explain myself.

My name is… Astrid Hofferson… and if you don't know who I am, you must be living under a rock, or maybe you are more out of touch than Hiccup. Ha, sorry, inside joke, you'd only get it if you know who "Hiccup" Haddock III is, and no one would blame you if you didn't.

Anyway, to those of you who DON'T know who I am, maybe this will jog your memory. I am the star pupil of Berk High School, a miserable hellhole of a high school who has less people than all of the moon combined. I am the star track runner, the first chair of the choir program second year in a row, have the second highest grades in school (damn you Hiccup, you stupid fucking genius), and am the second half of the greatest power couple this back country town has ever known, Scott Jorgenson, star football player and hottest guy on campus, and somehow related to Hiccup, I can't remember the exact logistics of it, but it is the least obvious thing on the face of the planet.

Let me get something straight though. After inspecting the last paragraph, one might get the impression that I hate poor little Hiccup. That is not true, I don't hate him, I just don't really care about him whatsoever. He is that one kid at school who it is cool to make fun of because everyone does it, so, any shots at him are fair game… right?

Honestly, while I love being admired and making jokes at others expense is fun, I love it as much as the next guy (or girl we will not be sexist in my mind), but I've always kinda felt bad about it when it comes to Hiccup. I kinda remember a time, a long time ago mind you, when he used to be one of our friends, just one of the group. The others seem to have forgotten that though, they all act as if he committed some great atrocity to humanity just by being all of… him. Sorry I don't have a better description. Again, nothing against the poor little fish bone, it is just how it is.

Today is Monday, the sun is shining, the kids are chatting (or making out depending on where you so happen to be at the moment, sadly, I can see three couples from where I am, and I haven't even entered the front door yet! So disgusting). Coming back from summer vacation is always nice, don't tell anyone because I do have an image, but I always love coming back to school after summer vacation. Track practice starts up again, I get to sing competitively, I'm no longer forced into every living moment with Scott , and, best of all, no more fucking parties. I hate them more than someone of my status should, but I truthfully never saw the purpose, get drunk, do stupid shit, go home with Scott, and pray that I'm not to drunk to leave afterwards. I hate having to stay in bed with him for any amount of time other than what is necessary. It's not that bad, I mean it isn't the best feeling in the world, but it's not the worst. Then I leave him passed out in a drunken state, and sneak back into my house, which just happens to be two doors down from Scott's, but, I digress.

Today is Monday, I'm being priased, the sun is shining (for once), everything is perfect.

But deep down…

I can feel another storm coming.

A storm so bad, it almost makes me physically sick.

But enough of that, I can't be sick, I have a boyfriend to meet up with and a school to impress.

 **Again, not a very long chapter, at all, but again, I can only do so much with introductions. I honestly had a challenge with Astrid and pining down her personality but I think I did okay. The next chapter will finally get onto the actual story i swear. I also understand that there is very little hiccstrid in this chapter, and I want it to be more of a slow burn instead of a pre-established thing. That foreshadowing though… I know it is kinda on the mark, but I felt it was needed. Again I love to hear what you all think, I love to hear constructive critisism, and if you have any tips on how to write Astrid better, I would love to hear them, so please review . I'll see you all next time.**


	3. Breaking of hopes, dreams, and minds

**A/N: Hello all, this is the creator here. I want to thank you for the support on the story and the reviews, always helpful. I want to warn you that the upload schedule for this fic isn't a fixed thing. Between finals, eagle scout stuff, and family difficulties, there is a likely possibility that the uploads will be irregular. Also, as promised, this is the beginning of the actual story and I am honestly kinda hyped. Let me know if there is anything that y'all need. Also, to harrypanther "You are on the right track, but, a hint, there is a small twist to Astrid. Nothing is as it seems." Talk to you soon, NoOne.**

 **EDIT: One last thing I may or may not have forgotten on this chapter, I, in no way shape or form, own HTTYD and claim no rights to said material.**

 **Hiccup POV:**

Like previously stated, Mondays fucking suck. Surprisingly, my opinion hasn't changed since the last time we chatted, especially since we last chatted. I want to warn you, this may be the last time we are able to talk, so cherish the time you have with me, your lovely, neighborhood Hiccup. Don't worry about that now though, as we will go extremely into depth to my situation later on. So, without further ado, let us begin.

Despite the fact that there is a ball of literal fire and plasma hanging above our heads burning at about 10,000 degrees fahrenheit, the bitter cold well known by the area still permeates the air, stabbing directly into my bones with every little breeze that happens to hit me. Not even my thermal insulated coat seems to be able to absorb any of the piercing cold, instead trapping it in with me like the traitorous little shit that it is. Everything about this weather should bum me out, but today, a little lack of heat can't ruin the exuberant mood surrounding my usually reserved demeanor. This mood only bolstered by the fact that my father already happened to have left for work, so no shitty tasting breakfast for me, (I happen to hate the food my father "cooks" and said father always finds it to his personal morning enjoyment to make sure I eat some) underlined by the fact that today is the day I finally prove myself to the world, and boldened by the simple fact that, if all goes well today, I might be known as more than just the local fuck up.

As I walk through the parking lot towards the front door of the high school, I flip the hood of my hoodie up attempting to both conceal myself and keep my face from freezing. Why am I trying to hide myself, well, and this is a little known fact, I love being inconspicuous, which may seem counter productive considering my plans for today and how it'll help me "prove myself to the world", but there is a perfectly logical explanation for my actions and phrasing. I am cursed, I don't know by which witch or god, but someone decided it would be a hilarious idea to curse the thinnest, weakest, and most introverted child in Berk. My curse, instead of something merciful like death or an amphibious transformation, was to be an unbearable klutz a curse which has the most influence over me on one day. The most important day of my year. The first day of school. The day that sets up the groundworks of the entire school year, but today, I plan to break the curse.

For years now, I have worked at a literal smith shop called, simply, The Forge. It doubles as a mechanic shop, where most of the money comes from, but I spend most of my time in the actual forge (the furnace housing not the actual… shop… goddammit i swear Gobber made did that shit on purpose). Actually, while on the topic, I'm gonna interject really quick. Gobber is a brute of a man who, upon first glance, is the most intimidating mother fucker you have ever seen. Two actual limbs (his right arm and left leg both lost in combat), mostly fake teeth, and scowl to make the buffest men piss themselves (it also doesn't help that he dresses like a viking all the time for "authenticity" (read: Gobber loves cosplay)). An intimidating man, until he talks. More scottish than even my father and a voice almost as high as mine, he sounds more like the comic relief in a dreamworks movie than an actual war hero, he also happens to be the head coach of the track team, the teacher of the norse mythology class, and best friend of my father. He was my father's second in command in whatever special forces branch they were in and just kinda kept following him from there (not as stalkerish as it seems).

So why did I go on that tangent about my part time job, someone smart in the audience may ask. Well, the answer is quite simple, today, I unveil, drum roll please, my prosthetic. Well not _mine_ necessarily, as I am missing no limbs, but my idea for a prosthetic. I have devised a way to fine tune the muscle sensors in the more complicated prosthetics to where you can use the fake leg and/or arm as one would use their other limbs, even being able to use fingers one at a time. My test model was, of course, Gobber, and it was a complete success. He didn't want to keep the one I made him though because he told me that they could go to someone who needed it more, also it would ruin the authenticity of his viking costume and _no one_ would want that, so I've used his as the presentation models.

The reason that I chose today, was because there is a speaker at our school by the name of Johann. Mr. Johann, is the leading man behind Limbitless, a 3D printing company specializing in making prosthetics out of 3D printed material, and my sensory system is the perfect thing for him, thus, I plan to impress him, sell him the design, maybe guarantee a job after college, all of that good stuff. I have the arm safely hidden in my backpack so that no one will ask any questions, I get bullied enough no need to show up with a random arm like some sort of freak. All I have to do is get to my first period, english, without incident and I'm good. Free from the oppression of being ignored, and, while not popular, not ignored. There is little I hate more than being ignored, but I love solitude, who knew. But for now, I'm ignored, which is a good thing for me as it increases my likelihood of getting stopped.

Alas, I have a cousin.

Alas, I have a bully.

Alas, I have a cousin, who also happens to be my bully, who is also currently mentally undressing my crush, and getting away with it… Until he sees me. In which case, I hope he's stopped undressing whatever he sees cause that would just be fucking creepy, even for his level.

His loud voice booms over the crowd, quieting it instantly as I guess he decides that he didn't torment me enough at the family reunion last week. "Hey fishbone, you tryin to hide from me," I can hear the sneer in his voice as he addresses his inferior (his definition of inferior is anyone who isn't him or Peyton Manning). I roll my eyes and turn to face the stupid brute of a teenager. As soon as the people realize who it is their god is talking to, they move out of the way continuing their (probably pointless) conversation as they realize that if they acknowledged the situation in front of them, their consciousness would make them interject and no one would dare do that.

"No Scott, I know that _nothing_ escapes your attention, I was just practicing silent movement." I said with my trademarked smirk and infuriating eyeroll.

"You're damn right nothing escapes me. My mother says I'm the most observant person I know," like I said, not that bright.

I just sigh, "What do you want Scott?"

"What, are you in a hurry or something."

"Or something," I manage to mutter under my breath. It also seems that I'm not that observant as well because I didn't even see any of the members of his posse sneak up behind me and steal my backpack right off my back and hand it to Scott. "H-h-hey give that back," I almost cringe at the childlikeness of my voice.

"After I find the math homework we were supposed to do over the summer, I didn't do it and I'm gonna… copy… ... what, the fuck, is this," and all I can do is stare in horror as he pulls out the arm and the leg, dropping my backpack to the ground.

 **Astrid POV:**

I know that Scott is staring at my breast. I know that he hasn't heard a word that I, or anyone else has said to him since I came over. I just can't bring myself to care, it's not like he ever hears what I say anyway, so instead of talking, I drift off onto different thoughts. Like how my birthday is in two weeks. Finally seventeen, finally able to see R-rated movies, which, is awesome. I'm gonna take Ruffnut (my closest and pretty much only friend) to see an extra showing of Deadpool, which I still haven't seen. I'm snapped out of my thoughts though, by a loud voice in my ear that almost deafens me "Hey fishbone, you tryin to hide from me?"

Ugh fucking Hiccup, again. (Just clarifying, don't hate him, just hate… him. You understand) I was honestly hoping that there would be no… incidents today. Just my luck right. Anyway Hiccup proceeds with some sarcastic retort that would probably be funny if I was paying attention and, of course, Scott is too stupid to understand. It's obviously gonna be the same old routine and so I pull out my phone and half pay attention so I know if I am needed to contribute to the conversation. I'm in the middle so reading an article on Vogue's website when I hear Scott trail off. That, while weird, is nothing in comparison to what he appears to be holding in his hand. If I didn't know any better, I'd believe to be looking at some kind of plastic arm and leg with a bunch of colored wires sticking out of the cuff. After staring for a second I realize that it is probably just for Gobber, his employer and my cross country coach, so it's not really that strange either. Looking back on it, what shocked me the most, in that moment, is the look on Hiccup's face.

He's looking at Scott like he just pissed on Hiccup's hopes and dreams before stabbing them to death, aka, he looked horrified. A twinge of sympathy hits my gut and I genuinely feel sorry for the kid, but keep my peace for fear of tarnishing my image. After a solid minute of silence, Scott finally spoke up.

"Awwwww look, Hiccup is so lonely it looks like he is trying to build a robot girlfriend," he pauses for a minute for the laughter that will inevitably come. It's not even that funny of a joke, just nobody want to cross Scott. All I can think about is whether he thought that up on the spot, or if it took him that entire time to think that up.

"Scott give it back," Hiccup says slowly reaching for the limbs, a quiver belaying the raw emotion behind his words. Sadness, no wait, that isn't quite right. Is that rage? I've heard that squeaky voice say many thing throughout the years in every emotion imaginable, except anger. Sarcasm, yes, dry wit, yes, sadness, yes, but never, ever anger. Whatever is up with those limbs is obviously important to him and, once again I feel almost compelled to speak up, but, once again, hold my peace. "I actually need to give those to someone and I would rather give them in a relatively good state," again the anger is prominent in his voice and I physically cringe at his words, as that is literally the worst thing he can say in that situation.

"Who are someone like you gonna give these too, you boyfriend Gobber. I should probably tell your father that he is best friends with a pedofile. Of course, he cares so little he'd probably congratulate you on the love life." Again that twinge is back and this time I do speak up, trying to at, at the very least save hiccup some teasing.

"Babe," I say in the sweetest voice I conjure, "the bell's about to ring and I want to get to class. Can't be late on the first day now can we?"

"Hold up babe, I just need to get some answers out of this little toothpick and then we'll head out. Besides, how can I pass up a prime teasing opportunity like these babies right here?" he shakes the limbs for emphasis when **it** happens.

All of a sudden, everything slows to a snail's pace, even me, as two little green boards fall out of the bottom of each, simultaneously, synchronized in an almost practiced motion. I can see the anger on Hiccup's face drain back into horror as he realizes what has happened. He finally begins to reach out his hand hoping to catch at least one, or both, of the green boards (no idea what they do, but I am asuming that they are important), but I can tell he won't reach them in time. Scott is completely oblivious to what he has just caused to happen. The second the boards reach the floor, a crack resonates through the silent hallway and time speeds up again.

There, Hiccup kneels holding the shattered, what appears to be circuitboards now that I can get a better look, in his hand, when, yet another surprise happens. A tear falls onto the ruined piece of equipment, then another, and another, until he is openly sobbing in front of the whole school. It is a shock, because none of us have actually seen him cry. He has been beaten into oblivion before and still had a comeback or a bit of dry wit, but never tears. Not until now. Scott, in his infinite wisdom and inability to pass up a chance for an insult, finally re-acknowledges Hiccup.

"Aw, is the wittle baby cwying," he said in a voice that made even me hate him momentarily. Then, the biggest surprise out of them all happened, Hiccup snapped.

 **Alright the story begins. Sorry for the cliffhanger, but I couldn't resist buhahahahaha I know I'm evil but i seriously couldn't resist. Any thoughts, any questions, let me know. I'm really beginning to like how this story is turning out and I might decide to branch out into other fandom a after I finish this story. Next time, stoick, mildew, and hints toward toothless. See you next time.**

 **May 26, 2016**


	4. Snotlout is born

**A/N: Here is the next chapter. That's all. For once I don't have a paragraph as a author's note, shocking I know. Enjoy.**

 **EDIT: I know, I was doing so good. I have to mention that I, in no way, own HTTYD, and I am only using it's characters for the entertainment of others.**

 **Astrid POV:**

It didn't happen instantly, the aforementioned snap that is, as the word would imply. To clarify, it was the moment the dam broke, the one holding his anger inside, not the moment he made his move though. That took a minute.

The first hint that any observant person (read: everyone excluding Scott) had that Hiccup was past the breaking point was his shoulders. He had always kinda slouched down, making himself smaller than he was, probably a mechanism that he used to avoid attention. That, was no longer the case. His thin shoulders bunched up the second the words left Scott's mouth, squaring with a confidence that honestly looked foriegn on him. There were no more tears falling.

He slowly raised his head, dropping the circuit boards to the ground between his knees. One of his most notable features, to me at least, was his hair. His hair had always been slightly longer than the average boy's, always just brushing against his shoulders and bangs unruly, appearing wild and untambed, but always staying out of his face and showing his emerald eyes. His bangs did no such favors now, hanging down in front of his eyes, casting them in an all consuming darkness that I almost got lost in/ The tear streaks were still prominent on his face, sticking out against the contrasting pale skin and freckles.

Scott still had that stupid, overly cocky smirk on his face when Hiccup reached up, grasped his nose, and pulled the poor kid'sface onto Hiccup awaiting knee, which he had somehow managed to stick up in perfect time to meet Scott's face. The resulting crack made everyone in the, now rapidly growing, audience visibly cringe. The force of the blow made Scott fall backwards onto his (if i'm completely honest) frankly unimpressive ass, his hand covering his face, yelling obscenities from behind his face with a noticeably higher voice, about an octave or so.

Hiccup payed no attention to the shit streaming from Scott's mouth as he slowly raised himself to a standing position. He was tall. Inappropriate time to notice this small little fact I know, but I'd never really noticed until now. He was always on the ground (pushed down by Scott), or asleep at his desk, or cowering, but now, he was none of those things… he was, confident. I felt another twinge of sympathy deep within me, this time though, it wasn't for Hiccup. I realized with a small start that I was feeling sympathy for Scott and, like I did for Hiccup so many times before, I kept my peace and kept quite.

A hollow voice speaks up, breaking the spell of silence that had befallen the audience. "What the fuck did I tell you You Self ABSORBED PIECE OF ABSOLUTE SHIT," the scream tearing tearing itself from Hiccup's throat making everyone in the crowd, including me, back up a step. "YOU COULDN'T SEE PAST YOUR OWN EGO FOR ONE GODDAMN FUCKING MINUTE TO REALIZE THAT THERE ARE SOME THINGS THAT YOU SHOULD JUST LEAVE ALONE, BUT NO, YOU HAD TO OPEN YOUR STUPID FUCKING MOUTH AND SPEW MORE PIPING HOT SHIT INTO THE WORLD THAN YOU ALREADY HAVE, DIDN'T YOU…. LOOK AT ME WHEN I TALK TO YOU YOU COWARDLY PIECE OF GARBAGE." Hiccup shouted before moving to force Scott's hands from his face.

Scott's face, looking back on it, was one of the funniest things I had ever seen, solely thanks to the fact that, for once, he didn't look cocky or smug. He looked like… well, he looked like Hiccup, and suddenly I'm hit with the pure hilarity of the situation in front of me. The rules of interaction between the two, established a million times over, have been reversed, broken for a few moments, a few glorious moments. Something that everyone at the school needed to see, their idol broken, the gold paint gone and the pyrite underneath revealed. This confrontation was like seeing Hades and Zeus fight, you know who you should cheer for (Zeus aka Scott), but you want to cheer for Hades.

Hiccup, along with some of the rest of the student body, most of the ones who can see his face, began chuckling. His face, always kinda superman like in nature, had four trails running down it. The two tear trails mirroring the ones on his cousin's face, and two snot trails, running down and over his chin. I know it was an involuntary reaction to having your nose pulled, but still, wouldn't you pay anything to see Zeus look like a pathetic crying child? My point exactly.

Scott decides, that instead of staying on the ground quietly, escaping with his dignity, he would try to recover in literally the worst way possible, with his words. "You… you… you can't laugh….. you were crying first." Comeback of the ages, I know.

"At least I don't look like a child who doesn't know how to use a fucking tissue. You have enough snot leaving your nose to cover everyone's colds for the rest of the year. Ya fucking lout, was that the best that you could come up with 'you cried first'." came the increasingly snarky and condescending reply. "Please then, grace us with more of your wise wit oh king..." he took a second to think of what to say next, "Snotlout. That actually seems appropriate, Snotlout. Let's see how you like _your_ new nickname."

Hiccup, always the smart one, was about to pull away when Snotlo… I mean Scott (sorry Snotlout does kinda fit him) decided to finally make an intelligent decision and use his brute force, literally his only advantage he has on his cousin. He pushed up with left arm, ramming his right arm directly into Hiccup's diaphragm knocking the breath out of him and giving Scott time to recover.

They stood, alone in the circle, surrounded by their peers, glaring each other down. In the back of my mind I vaguely hear the bell ring, but the tension in the air muffles it out. I count exactly five seconds of peace. Five long, tension and anger filled seconds where no one dares to even breathe. Then, they collide. Scott charges across the floor, attempting to tackle the opposing youth and end the embarrassing brawl without further incident. Sadly, he wasn't that lucky. Hiccup, at the last second, side steps and brings his elbow down in the center of Scott's back as he charges past, sending the football captain sliding on the linoleum tile flooring that makes up the base of the school.

"Charges like the animal he can most relate to, the bull without the testicles." Shouts Hiccup, earning a few more well deserved chuckles before Scott stands back up and faced him again. Scott tries to advance once again, much more cautiously this time, stopping just out of reach before shooting forward to punch Hiccup in the jaw. The willowy youth falls to the ground with a thud, just barely rolling out of the way of Scott's follow up attack, using the momentum to kick Scott's left leg out from under him, once again leveling the battlefield. They both give each other time to get back up, this time eyeing each other up and down, assessing the damage that has already been dealt. Hiccup has a steady stream of blood coming from his lip and a surprisingly nasty looking cut right below his right eye, neither of which seem to be bothering the youth. Snotlout, the name seems really fitting right now considering the snot is still streaming out of his nasal cavity, is looking slightly better off. There is already a bruise forming where his chin connected with Hiccup's knee and he seems to be favoring his right leg. Snotlout swings with a sloppy right hook, putting too much weight on his hurt leg, causing him to pitch forward, missing Hiccup entirely, and falling on his hands and knees at his smaller cousin's feet, a cousin who, without hesitation, kicks his hands out from under him making him fall flat on his face, resulting in another resounding crack. He falls on his side holding his now quite broken nose and Hiccup, clearly the victor, turns on his heels and begins to leave the scene of the fight before Snotlout, ever needing to have the last word, shouts at Hiccup's back, "You call that a fight, no wonder your dad doesn't love you, and your mother ran away. You're not a man Henrik, you're a hiccup, a little annoyance in everyday life. If you're not gonna come back and finish what you fucking started, then don't come back at all. Just go kill yourself and do everyone else the favor," he shouted, throwing what little respect I had left for him away, in fact, I'm actually horrified behind the venom in the words.

Hiccup stops for a second at the mention of his parents, but then proceeds to walk through the crowd with little more than a backwards glance and middle finger for good measure, before walking right into the awaiting arms of principal Mildew who then promptly orders both of them into his office at once and grabs Hiccup by the scruff of his neck and drags him through the crowd and out of sight.

After starring in the general direction for a short amount of time, I reluctantly realize that I need to go help and comfort my "perfect" boyfriend, Snotlout.

 **Holy shit sorry about the long update wait. There was horrible flooding throughout my hometown last Thursday and I have been working tirelessly to help with the cleanup effort, yesterday putting well over 8 hours into volunteering with clean up crews. By the time I got home, I was to tired to finish up and post. I just got home from work, thereby permiting me to put the finshing touches on it. Because of the heave damage, my updates will probably be kind of erratic for the next week or so. I might also set up an actual update schedule! Yay.**

 **Anyway I hope that you liked this chapter. Any questions comments or concerns please leave in the reviews and I'll try to get the next chapter up as soon as possible. See you all next time.**

 **May 29, 2016**


	5. Aftershock

**A/N: Finally, Hiccup's POV. I didn't put the fight in here because it would have just been extremely repetitive, sorry to those of you who wanted to see it from his POV. Warning, from here it get kind of strange. There are a few unrealistic things to come and it will be out there. Anyway, thanks for all of the support on the story so far, it has been wonderful and it helps keeps me writing. Special thanks to assassin2000 and An Amber Pen for the support encouraging words. Enough with the mushy stuff, enjoy the chapter and I'll see you later.**

 **Hiccup POV:**

My bravado lasted up until the principal and I turned the corner. My tears were held back until we reached his office. My sobs were silent until I was alone in his office, while he went to check on my my stupid fucking cousin. Why couldn't he just leave me alone for once like everyone else does. Just one more day of being ignored and I would have been fine and everything in my life would have fallen into place, but that type of stuff doesn't happen to me. Nothing good happens to me. I cry for my lost limbs and my bruises (don't judge me, they fucking hurt).

To clarify for all those completely confused. Snotlout (Scott, it's… it's now a thing just go with it) may or may not have broken all my hopes and dreams, I may or may not have been understandably upset, and I may or may not have kicked his ass. How you may I ask. I don't actually know.

I decided to use some shit that I saw some action movies and it just kind of worked, it worked a bit too good. Snotlout is in the hospital with a broken nose, bruised spine, and messed up shin. He's out of football for at least the first half of the season. The only reason that no charges have been pressed yet is solely for the reason that it was "self defense" (courtesy of Principal Mildew who just didn't want to do more paperwork). So what is to happen to me, you may ask. It's simple, no one knows. Mildew wants me expelled, Snotlout and his father want me in jail, and my father… hasn't answered the phone, not that he would. Knowing him, he's probably out hunting that poor animal that escaped from the transport taking it to the zoo in Anchorage (a panther I believe). He's been setting traps all around town so that he can get the trophy. Once again, I digress (I really need to stop digressing, it's just so much fun).

It took thirty minutes for me to stop crying, mask my emotions again, and go insane with boredom. There is literally nothing to do in here, but think, and think, and think. Think over the events of today, the actions acted upon, the breaches of social conduct breached, the words said spoken. Snotlout's departing words slowly ate away at my brain, casting it into doubt and got me thinking that maybe… maybe he was right. I always mess things up and everywhere I go I cause trouble. Maybe, just maybe, the world would be better off without me in it.

The thought hit me like a sniper round, hard, fast, and true. It's true, everything he said. My father barely acknowledges my existence and my mother obviously holds no love for me. Maybe I should just do everyone else the favor. The more I will over it in my mind, the more logical it sounds. It takes a few minutes, but, with a new resolve, I stand up and sneak out of the room.

 **Astrid POV:**

Fuck math, fuck Mondays, fuck Scott, Fuck Hiccup, fuck uh… just FUCK. Why can't this day be over already. It's barely one and I already have a migraine worse than any 17 year old should. I just can't stand all the questions or the pitying glances, the latter more so the former. Honestly, usually I would love all of the extra attention, I've worked my way up to the top of the proverbial food chain and I like the attention that comes with it, but I just can't right now. I can't handle the glances because they are all meant for Scott.

The looks say "I'm sorry for what happened to your boyfriend," again not the problem. The problem lays in the fact that _I_ don't feel sorry for him, I feel sorry for Hiccup. No, it's not that I don't feel sorry for Scott, it's the fact that I don't feel anything, and I can't figure out why. He's my boyfriend, I love him, I should care. Yeah… the words don't sound that convincing to me either, not that I have to convince myself that I love my boyfriend, because I obviously do.

The questions are also kind of annoying. No, I don't know if scott faced is still going to be handsome, I don't think that we should all start calling him Snotlout, and I don't think that _Hiccup_ has a nice ass (that one is asked way more than it should be).

Hiccup is also being hailed as some sort of hero, a martyr of sorts. Beat up the king and then disappear from right out of the nose of the stricted kill-joy of all time, that is all the stuff of legends. Tales worthy of the vikings themselves, tasks that hercules wouldn't have tried to brave, hell, with how tall the pedestal is that he is being built up on is, he might as well be Hercules. Apparently he has the ass for it, not that I've ever looked or anything.

So why then, did I say earlier that I pity him. Pity is honestly to soft of a word. I fear for him. I'm scared that he took those final words said to him to heart. He wasn't in an emotionally stable place when he left, and what was said would have that kind of effect on anyone, it honestly physically hurt me. I mean, I can kind of understand with the way… nope, nope, not thinking about that shit at school. No need to bring my problems with me, I carry them anyway. I fear for Hiccup because I'm scared that he would do something rash and make a horrible mistake.

I'm taken from my worrying thoughts by the shrill call of the bell, cursing as I realized I didn't finish my math worksheet. I sigh, pulling my backpack on, walking up to the front of the classroom to turn in the half finished assignment (who gives out work on the first day anyway), the prosthetics weighing heavily in her backpack. Only two more classes before the end of the day, maybe I can make a little field trip after school and return these. I'm not assuring myself that he is okay, I'm just giving back what is his.

 **Hiccup POV:**

Sneaking out to my car was easy. Driving home was easier. This was not. Why couldn't I just blow my brains out like a normal person, why do I have to considerate of other people's feelings.

I was right, by the way, my dad had left his phone on the kitchen counter in his eagerness to catch the beast and it was still ringing when I arrived on the scene. I guess that the secretary still hadn't realized that I had snuck out yet, but honestly, I couldn't bring myself to care. It wouldn't matter in a bit anyway would it. The actions of the living no longer concern the dead.

The entire way home, I had gone over how this was gonna happen over and over again in my head. The easiest option, would be to use one of the many pistols that my father had hidden throughout the house, but I don't want my last act to be an inconvenience to anyone, do you know how hard it is to get blood out of carpet. There was also a very small, hopeful, part of me that believed that my father might be scarred by the sight, and I couldn't do that to him. Slitting my wrists is out, too painful. Hanging is to slow and old fashioned for my taste, so my plan now is to go out to the river that runs through our property and drown myself. There is a bridge that crosses is that stands twenty feet above it that would just be perfect for the event. If I dive headfirst, I might even break my neck and die instantly. All my problems, gone, without pain. The perfect solution. The that in mind, I grab a machete and a gun. A machete for the underbrush, and a pistol for protection, you never know what you will find in the woods.

 **Hello again. You hate me I know, but it is the life I live and I accept that. Next chapter is gonna be a long one so it might take me a while to write, but it will be worth it. It is all Hiccup's POV and I'm personally looking forward to it. This chapter was shorter than I would have liked, but it was an amazing place to stop and I couldn't help myself. I see a clifhanger and I must leave you all to dry. Let me know what you thought of the chapter. Any questions, comments, concerns, or suggestions, let me know and I will address them all as the next chapter is posted. I love constructive criticism and I want you all to enjoy reading as much as I enjoy writing. See you next time.**

 **May 30, 2016**


	6. Outdoor adventure

**A/N: Hello again, new chapter is up. I am so happy with all of the support that this story has gotten, it makes me happy to see people enjoying the story. Sorry for amount of time it took me to update, but I'm finally done with school for the year so hopefully updates will come much quicker.**

 **I don't own any dreamworks property and don't claim to.**

 **Hiccup POV:**

There is a literal ball of plasma and fire that constantly hangs above our heads burning at about 10,000 degrees, but never affects Berk. Whether you can see it or not, it never makes heats up the air any noticeable amount. So why, pray tell, does it now. The one day I decide to go outside and do any sort of outdoor physical activity, it decides to make it feel warm for a day. It's almost enough to make me turn back and rethink my strategy, but my father could be home at this point and I don't want to have him yell at me for taking the revolver, and the river, if I survive the fall.

The sweat soaks through my clothes, makings them cling to my body, pressing the gun into my back. Yes I know my logic makes no sense. "Take a gun into the woods to kill yourself and don't even use it in the process," I can hear you say condescendingly. Don't judge me, I'm paranoid. There are bears up in these woods, and getting disemboweled is not the way I have chosen to go out.

I slash another branch out of the way as I make my way closer to the creek. The "road" leading up to the bridge hasn't been used in years, making it overgrown and untamed. The brush is so thick that I can't even make out the gravel that used to be laid out here, marking the winding path. The trees, with no one to move them, grew out over the trail, casting it in strange shadows, the wind making them appear sentient and honestly kinda creepy. The forest creeks around me as the ancient trees move with the wind. The birds singing solemn songs that make the atmosphere almost suffocating.

Walking through the forest left to my thoughts, naturally they will wander. I firstly think back on the note I left for my father on my bed, if he ever bothers looking. I hoped to keep it lighthearted but I was finding the sarcastic inspiration that usually comes to me so easily, impossible to find. I honestly think that I might have sounded a bit bitter in it. I am, but I don't want to _sound_ bitter. That just isn't me. Of course, my father probably won't even go into my room after I'm gone, so I don't know why I care.

I still feel kind of bad about the entire endeavor if I'm honest. I'm not leaving much behind, even my corpse won't be much to look at, but I kind of worry about Fishlegs. He is the one person I am genuinely gonna miss, and I worry that he might miss me. I left a special note for him on my computer, stating my final will and testament (everything goes to him), I hope he appreciates the sentiment.

I also worry about my father. Another one of my irrational thoughts, I know, but I worry that losing me might actually affect him in some way. Losing a wife and a son has to be hard on any man. I know I talk about him ignoring me or yelling at me, but I do believe, somewhere behind that stoic demeanour, that he loves me. Somewhere really hidden, maybe behind his viking - like beard. I don't know.

I finally reach a small clearing where I can take a break. I've only been walking for forty-five minutes I'm sure, but I still have the appearance of someone who ran a 5k. Sweat drips into my eyes and my breath comes heavy. I enjoy a few moments of silence, the world waiting with baited breath for something to happen. What it was waiting for, I don't know, I just know it was waiting.

Eventually, the silence becomes too much for me and I begin moving again, this time, no thoughts on my mine. No questions or hesitance, just movement. Two minutes later, I arrive.

I hear the water before I see the bridge, roaring loudly drowning out all but the most vocal of sounds. I step out of the treeline onto the ground leading up to the wooden bridge, the path still slightly visible. I pause for a second and take out the gun from my pants and set both it and the machete on the ground. No reason to waste perfectly good tools on my death. They might still get some use out of them one day. I take a deep breath, letting the mountain air and the scent of cedar calm me, before I take the first step.

The bridge, if it could be called that (just a bunch of thick logs tied expertly together with a flimsy handrail that had no business being there), shook slightly underfoot as I slowly made my way to the center. I cast another look towards my old home, feeling a second of hesitation before my determination took over once again. I'm stubborn if anything else.

I look over the rope rail that spanned the bridge at the rapids below. On a good day, hercules could have gotten swept away by them, so there was no doubt that if I fell in, I would die. The clear water rushed by below, oblivious to the child about to jump in.

I carefully swing my leg over the rail, standing on the edge of the logs, front half of my feet hanging over the edge and holding onto the rope behind me like a lifeline. All I have to do is let go, and everything ends. My plan comes to fruition and I stop begin the burden that is me. I take one last deep breath, basking in the pleasant feeling. I slowly let it out and close my eyes. Just before I slip my fingers off of the rope, I hear an inhuman yowl of pain behind me, making my hands let go of the rope and I feel nothing but air below my feet.

AVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVAVA

Remind me to thank Gobber for letting me work in the forge, because if it wasn't for the minute muscles I had gained thanks to the slight physical activity, I would be dead right now.

The minute my hands left the rope survival instinct took over, making me turn around in mid air grabbing onto the protruding wood, almost dislocating my arms in the process, but I succeeded in the saving grab. I pull myself up onto the bridge, flopping onto the planks rubbing my shoulders before I remember why I fell in the first place. I scramble over the two weapons lying on the ground standing up, gun held arm's length in front of me.

I cast my gaze around me, looking for the source of the unnerving howl, seeing nothing. Just before I give up looking, I hear it again, coming from the path that I had just come from. The sound was worse than nails on a chalkboard. It was a sound of pure pain, anguish, and hopelessness. I begin walking in it's direction, reckless I know.

I happen upon the clearing that I had stopped at previously before I see it, gasping in my surprise.

In my exhaustion, I must have missed the telltale gleam of the bear trap lying in the middle of the clearing. That is not what I was shocked by, it was what was trapped. It was large, that much was clear. Not enormous and bulky like a bear might be, but wiry and muscular. It looked more like a large dog than anything, but it's face said otherwise. It was scrunched up, more like a cat, scowl of pain evident on it's face, eyes closed. The fur covering it's body darker than a night without a moon, seeming to absorb all of the light from around it. It was a panther. It was THE panther. It was trapped, helpless, and all mine.

 **How did you all like it. Let me know. I think you got it Amber Pen, and I'm glad that someone else saw it with me. The support has been enourmous and I still think you all. Also, I have plans for another fic in this fandom, a kind of unique one this time around. I will either post the first chapter soon or I will post a excerpt on the next chapter and y'all can tell me what you think. Let me know what you think. Next time: TOOTHLESS BITCHES. See you all next time.**


	7. Afraid

**A/N: I own nothing**

 **Hiccup POV:**

I almost shouted at my luck. The one thing my father wanted in life, lying helpless at my feet. If anything would help me finally be useful, this was it. I take a step closer to inspect the panther in greater detail, namely it's trapped leg. The trap, rusted from years of non-use and expulsion to the elements, had managed to snap on it's back left leg, almost tearing completely through the muscle, destroying the leg beyond use. I saw some teeth marks farther up on the leg as well, indicating that the poor animal had attempted to chew off it's own leg, before succumbing to the pain. I honestly felt sorry for it… no scratch that… him (don't ask how I figured that part out, though it should be extremely obvious).

My eyes started traveling up his body (yes I know that sounded sexual, don't quote me on that one) trying to see if there was any more damage. I finally reach its head only to find myself staring into two very green eyes, and that is where I felt hesitation.

If you haven't figured out my intention by now, I will spell it out for you. Frankly, I need to kill this panther. I would prove to everyone that I am more than I appear. This will sound very samari-esk I know, but it would help restore any honor that was lost today. I blatantly cried in front of the entirety of my school, if I'm not gonna kill myself, I need something big to regain me respect. So I need to kill this panther, and that is where the hesitation came in.

What I saw in the eyes surprised me. They were dilated into mere slit, silently observing me, sizing me up, looking almost… intelligent. I could almost see the complex thoughts running through his mind, most of them pretty degrading I will admit, but that isn't all. I saw no malice in those eyes. Don't get me wrong, I'm pretty sure that he wanted to tear my head off right then and there, but he felt no hate towards me. He looked… scared. In pain and scared and I almost lost my resolve right then. I shook the misleading thoughts out of my head, forcing my eyes away from his. I was just being paranoid, there was no way that he was feeling all of that.

I raise the gun in front of my again, pointing to the point on it's flank where his heart would lie, or attempting to. My hands were shaking so badly that I wasn't quite sure where the bullet would end up if I pulled the trigger. I took a deep breath steadying the gun taking aim one final time and closing my eyes slowly squeezing on the trigger. In the second before the hammer clicked, I looked once more into his eyes. An understanding passed between us, from predator to predator (hahaha he thinks of me as a predator). He realized what was happening, he understood what the weapon in my hand would do to him, and he resigned to his fate. He closed his eyes and laid his head on the ground, enjoying his last moment on this earth, and I knew I couldn't do it. With a yell of frustration, I instead raised the revolver straight into the air and firing all six rounds towards the gods themselves.

I pull out the machete in its place and begin working on the trap, sticking the blade between the jaws and rocking it back and forth, slowly creating a gap that he could slip his leg through. The next twenty seconds lasted way too long. Twenty seconds filled with determination (mine) and incredulation (his), the only noises being our combined breathing and the creaking of the old trap. Everything was going great for twenty seconds, and on the twenty first second, everything went wrong.

The springs, just as rusted over as the rest of the trap, got stuck refusing to yield any further. No matter how much force I used, it refused to go any farther, so I made a really drastic decision. I reposition my body perpendicular to his hind leg, raise the blade high above my head and hope and pray it hit where I aimed it. Right at the spot where he had tried to chew through. The blade cut through flesh with a sickening sound, crunching through bones on it vicious path downward, severing the leg in one fail swoop. He howled that inhuman howl of pure pain once more, blood now pooling below him. I had to turn away to throw up.

I turned around just in time to be thrown on my back, knocking me into a daze for a moment, coming out of which I find myself looking into, what else, emerald green eyes, full of malice. I'm paralyzed out of pure fear unable to do anything but lay there. His eyes sweep across my face, seemingly searching for something. He opens his jaws wide to reveal a long line of white, jagged, teeth and screams at me, casting one last look in my direction, before turning tail and awkwardly darting back into the brush.

I stand up and begin making my way to my house, lasting a whole three feet before my legs gave out from under me just as I passed out.

 **Hello again. Short chapter I know, but I've kinda figured out that that is the way I write. I will try to better myself and make them longer but no promises. Tell me what you thought. Anything I need to fix, just let me know.**

 **EDIT: I'm thinking of writing another story for the HTTYD fandom and I wanted to give you a excerpt from what I have written so far. I think it is a kind of unique, although it is another modern based one centered around military combat (obviously all of this might change as I see fit). Tell me what you think. Should I pursue it or not, I'm leaving it up to y'all. For clarification, this is Astrid speaking.**

9 Years ago, the bomb was dropped

9 Years ago, the war started

8 Years ago, my best friend turned 18

8 Years ago, my best friend was drafted

7 Years ago, my best friend went to war

5 Years ago, he was promoted to the rank of gunnery sergeant and was declared a war hero

4 Years ago, he was captured by enemy forces

3 Years ago, he was executed on national television

3 Years ago was the last time I cried

2 Years ago, I enlisted

2 years ago, I was shipped off

1 Year ago, America went on the offensive

1 Year ago we began pushing into Russia

2 Months ago, we were ordered to take down a POW camp

2 Days ago, we began the assult

This morning, we charged the camp

2 minutes ago, I cried again


	8. update

**First off, this is not an update, it is nothing more than an author's note. I apologize for the long update time, but I am going to warn you that it might be a little while longer before I actually finish the chapter. 3 Days ago, a good friend of mine and the main proofreader and supporter of my fic passed away after a horribly brutal car crash with a drunk driver, and it has taken a toll. I am not giving up on the fic, at all, but I need time to grieve and refind my inspiration again. I don't really have a fan base and honestly probably don't need to post this, but I wanted to give an explanation of my absence to those who have read and enjoyed the fic so far. I will say that I have written about half of the chapter and it does have an astrid and hiccup moment, albeit not that much of one and not what y'all are thinking of or hoping for.**

 **Again, sorry for the slow update speed and I will begin working on the fic again after I have had my little time.**

 **Also, one last thing, my other fic should be posted around the same time as the update for this fic.**

 **Thanks for the understanding, NoOne**


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